


The Visitation.

by calibriluu



Category: Ghost Quartet - Malloy, Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Crossover, Crows, F/F, Nightmares, mysterious shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-02-23 19:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13197063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calibriluu/pseuds/calibriluu
Summary: Sonya’s gone, but Mary deals with it. Except Sonya isn’t quite gone yet.





	The Visitation.

**Author's Note:**

> No worries, I haven’t left the fandom. I’m actually working on a long term project and I’ll probably be writing random stories like this from time to time. Enjoy!

_Blood flashed before her eyes, the screams of people that could not be saved.  The lifeless bodies sprawled on the ground. Creaking metal and shattered glass littered the vibrant green grass. She saw a camera in Sonya's hand right before everything._

_Right before she collapsed on the ground._

_Bags collided into her face, leaving tender bruises over her forehead as she laid in pain, unable to cry out or so anything. There was too much, too much things on her, her breath was stuck in her chest she couldn't move, she couldn't call out Sonya's name or even move her fingers._

_Mary wanted it to stop, stop hurting so much and just simply die. Maybe go to heaven, if it even existed._

_She felt her limbs go numb, stuck under the rubble. The screeching of the train replayed in her ears, again and again. Mary needed to scream, needed to let out the pain. Her head kept exploding inside of her, keeping her from really, really thinking._

_The dust watered her eyes and right when she though she could hear a voice, it immediately left. As if it never existed. She gasped for help until her throat was raw and burning. A darkness washed over her vision and everything slowly faded away..._

 

* * *

 

She woke up with a gasp, not unlike the one in her dream. Or whatever Mary could call it.

This is was the millionth time she had it. And it kept getting worse, and worse with every passing night Sonya was gone.

No one knew where she had gone. When Mary found out, she couldn't even bring herself to cry unlike Natasha who locked herself in her room for a few days. It was simply a hollowed feeling in her chest, that she knew Sonya was not entirely gone.

In truth, she continued with her daily routine in silence. She couldn't muster up the energy to do anything, even go outside. Most of the time, she was buried in their shared bed, whimpering to herself for Sonya to come back.

To Mary's surprise, she didn't.

It wasn't as if Mary noticed anything unusual with Sonya. They were completely normal, nothing was wrong between them. They loved each other more than anything in the world, as they had for many years.

There were reports of a short, red-haired figure in a cloak and red dress sneaking around the town. One of them included her holding the camera that matched the description of the camera in Mary's dreams. Sonya never had a camera like that.

Another statement came from another town that the same cloaked figure was holding a massive pot of honey. Mary didn't think much of it, much to Balaga's dismay since the latter had gone out of his way to find the information.

Sonya didn't like honey that much.

It was hardly possible for the two incidents to be related, why Sonya would leave Mary without a word. She vividly recalled the memories of her girlfriend, repeating _I love you, oh I love you so much Masha!_ and giggling as they stuffed themselves with popcorn on a Friday night.

She still blushed at the nickname.

Many days went by and the nightmares were reoccurring over and over again. Nothing seemed right, her world was fractured by the absence of the brightest thing in her life. Sometimes the dreams were different, and instead Sonya would be standing on a platform and passively watching Mary get plowed over by the train. Sometimes Sonya wasn't there at all and she was left with nothingness.

Even working her job, which she loved nearly as much as Sonya, seemed bleak and pointless.

Natasha, Helene, and Marya stopped by occasionally to lift her spirits to no avail. She hated, despised how she couldn't possibly get over this, that how Sonya disappeared might not be a coincidence. The police had nothing, not a trail. It was as if Sonya was a ghost.

Oh Sonya, Sonya Sonya Sonya. Her tinkling laugh and joyful smiles, red hair and a quietly independent streak. Sonya's kindness was gone from her life for far too long and it deepened the sorrow, not knowing what happened or how it happened.

Mary found the stranger at her doorstep.

"Who are you?" she had asked wearily, hardly in the mood to address anyone.

But they had already turned around and slowly walked away, swishing their cloak as they left. A box clattered onto the welcome mat. 

Mary picked it up gingerly, puzzled and buzzing with questions. The object was a simply cardboard box with no markings or labels on it, and Mary felt something sticky and lifted up her hand to see nothing on it.

Mary thought she saw a curl of red hair, nearly identical to Sonya's.

But the fog started coming in, out of nowhere as well. She must of imagined it all, but of course she was holding a box. Perhaps it would give her answers.

She ran into the kitchen and slashed it open to find an injured crow, fiercely cawing at the Bolkonsky. How the stranger had managed to stash an injured bird into a cardboard box was a mystery to her. Without any marks as well. And not hearing a caw form the box when they dropped it. Mary stared in bewilderment, unable to do anything in response to such a bizarre gift. 

If a noisy crow counted as one, of course.

 

* * *

 

 

 Nearly a month had passed by since the cloaked figure came by. Two months since Sonya disappeared.

The crow was well and healed by now, but refused to leave Mary's side. Sure enough, the crow was enough to dissipate the worst of her grief and gave her a distraction. Not to mention a new, loyal friend.

After finishing a _very_ late dinner, Mary climbed into bed. The sheets no longer smelled like it once had before, only containing Mary's scent. It didn't comfort her the slightest. The couch wasn't a better option either.

Reading over another few chapters of War and Peace, she turned off the lights and bid her winged friend a good night. The crow, for once, didn't respond. Instead, they hopped on the window ledge and peered outside.

If the bird wasn't going to sleep, it was their problem. She sighed to herself and flipped over to avoid the glare of the streetlights shining through the glass.

That night, she heard her feathered friend aggressively caw, and then fly into the living room. Mary laid still, fearing someone had broke into the apartment. She stiffened, thinking she was hearing things. Hearing Sonya's gentle voice. She was probably hallucinating now.

She wasn't.

"I wonder why I came here." The crow cawed viciously and by the flapping of wings, Mary thought it was attacking the intruder. Or whoever it was.

Mary watched from the open door as they silently walked around the kitchen, picking up photo frames and frowning at them. They, or her, had their hood off and waves of red hair poured over her shoulders and back. They looked nearly like Sonya, but she was attempting to get the hopeful voice out of her head. _It's not her, just some burglar who looks like her. Yes, just someone. No one._ The crow cawed again.

"Can you just stop? Please? I'm trying to think. I bet the person here is awake now, huddling in their sheets because _boohoo someone's come to rob 'em_. If you're listening, don't try calling the cops," she chuckled.

"There's something pulling me here. I don't think I've ever been to this place before, but it feels, well, familiar. Like I know that there's a stash of chocolate behind the cabinets. I know there's a confession note behind that painting for whatever reason. I know there’s a keyboard that’s been played with love in the bedroom. This place is so confusing, don't you think Pearl?" The crow looked at her strangely, shaking their head in fervor. Mary laid still, her eyes wide open with terror. It could not be her, but at the same time all the evidence pointed to otherwise.

The stranger kept poking around, stoping to study picture frames and coming closer to where Mary was wide awake.

”I know I know. Someone’s there, but they’re probably asleep. Pearl,  I don’t know what I’m doing so just shut up. Stop telling me I’m going to regret everything already.” The hooded intruder stepped into the frame of the doorway while the bird flapped onto the bedpost.

Mary shut her eyes, ignoring the growing tightness in her chest and gripped the bedsheet. The  stranger stood closer to the bed. Mary felt their hand run down her outline from her hair down to her knee. She involuntarily shivered at the touch.

”I’m sorry. I wish I knew who you were or what your name was. But I feel as if I should apologize, for some reason. Not that I actually know what I’ve done. This crow here won’t shut up about you, and at least you have someone. Or used to,” they sniffled, removing their hand. Tears threatened to come out of her eyes and she internally fought to make any response.

”Guess there’s nothing here. I’ll be one my way, lonely and travel through time forever. Can’t stay in one place long, might get chased by Brent,” the cloaked figure scoffed, almost to herself. They left the room in a hurry. Instantly, Mary flipped off the covers and clumsily fell of the bed in a hurry. Out in the living room, they were unlocking the door with ‘Pearl’ hovering in the air next to her.

”No Pearl, I don’t. There’s no point, no point in going back to that. Besides, my business is never finished. More timelines to ruin, and I quite like this one. I’ll definitely visit again. Maybe turn you back if I’m feeling like so. Definitely not dealing with stardust or honey anymore of course. Well this is goodbye, until next time.” Before they ambled our the door, they noticed Mary staring at her and flashed what seemed to pass as a smile. Mary had her mouth agape and her mind refused to quit whirling in thoughts.

_Until next time._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay but if you’re confused go listen to Ghost Quartet if you haven’t already. Reviews are greatly appreciated! :D


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